Come Here Boy
by Snarkcasm
Summary: It's really sad that underneath all that expensive trapping lies the same self-doubting, pimply-faced, chubby boy who was picked last for everything.
1. Chapter 1

**Author**: Snarkcasm  
><strong>Rating<strong>: M for inklings of smut  
><strong>Summary<strong>: Jay should feel completely undressed compared to the younger wrestler (after all, worn chucks and UnderArmor under a wrinkled graphic tee doesn't quite compare to dress shirts and pressed khakis), but he wears his confidence like a cloak and it shows in the faint trembles Captain Charisma could feel under his fingertips.  
><strong>Pairing(s)<strong>: Chrodes (Christian/Cody Rhodes), one-sided!Chrandy  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: I do not own any rights to the WWE or the wrestlers mentioned in the story. This is a story of fiction and I make no money from it.  
><strong>Author's Note<strong>: I'm excited about this new alliance, can't you tell? I had to get this out of my head before I could focus on schoolwork. I wrote this because I firmly believe that Christian/Jay has the ability to be a fandom black dress—he truly goes with anyone! Title come from an Imogen Heap song of the same name.

Cody jogs up to him, all energy beneath his acrylic mask. Jay's teeth nearly rot from being in the man's puppyish presence, but he pastes on a welcoming, bordering-on-sly grin and angles his body towards the Intercontinental Champion. Cody's a sweet kid—Jay would have felt terrible about what he was going to do next, but…

Nah.

"Interesting storyline we're in, huh?" He leans in, languid, predator-like, fixing the kid's perfect half-Windsor and brushing light finger down the silk tie. Jay should feel completely undressed compared to the younger wrestler (after all, worn chucks and UnderArmor under a wrinkled graphic tee doesn't quite compare to dress shirts and pressed khakis), but he wears his confidence like a cloak and it shows in the faint trembles Captain Charisma could feel under his fingertips.

It's almost too easy, Jay thinks in hindsight, as he lures Cody away from the rest of the herd with a leer and a tilt of his head. He leads the man towards a dark corner, soothing him with promising looks under long, blond eyelashes and lingering touches. 'Come here, little rabbit, I won't bite' his grin seems to say and Cody is terribly receptive. Jay takes the time to admire that; rarely are his partners attentive—Jay has a type after all and Cody, for all his…enthusiasm, doesn't quite fit the mold.

Jay's breath hitches as Cody, sans mask, tentatively noses along his bearded jaw. What a good boy. Jay is nothing if not appreciative as he rakes his nails down Cody's chest, catching on the other man's nipples. Jay presses his back flush against the stucco drywall, using Cody's bulk to hide his own. Perhaps it's cowardly, but Jay has a carefully maintained persona to keep: look, don't touch. Hips plaster to hips, clothed erections press and slide against each other. Cody moans quietly, inky eyelashes fluttering closed against a tanned, freckled cheek, and Jay's heartbeat increases at the spike in the danger level. He nearly chuckles; Cody was in for a surprise.

No preempting, no indication, nothing shows on his face as his hands dive into Cody's pants, past high-end jockies, and straight for the goods. Cody jumps against him like a skittish colt, and Jay does laugh at that, half-naughty, half-desperate. The pedigreed wrestler feels so good in his hands, of average-size but nice and weighty. Smiling like a kid in a candy shop, Jay yanks down the rest of the zipper and undoes the belt with his free hand, stepping back against the brunet's protesting to watch the pressed khaki slide down narrow hips and beefy thighs. He takes an almost strange pleasure in the fact that Pretty Boy Cody looks so…disheveled—that this eloquent man trails off into incomprehensible whimpers and pleas in the palm of his hand.

Jay licks his lips as he takes in Cody's cock for the first time. Barely contained within its silky confines, Cody's bulge looks so damn tempting. Jay wants…he wants to tease the spongy red head out to play, to lavish his attentions on all that circumcised playground. Heat curls low in his belly, but before he could sink to his knees, a sharp, angry rumble has Cody scrambling to pull up his pants, apologies tumbling from his lips as he flees with his dignity in tatters.

Oddly enough, Jay relaxes in the face of Randy's all-encompassing anger, limbs loose and a smirk already curling his lips. "I almost had him," he starts wistfully, radiating amusement as Randy's glare darkens. He rubs his fingertips together feeling the tackiness of cooling precum slide around in the grooves. He brings his fingers to his mouth—if he can't have Cody, he could at least have a taste—but a meaty hand grips his wrist and slams the delicate muscle and bone against the wall.

"You are such a slut, Reso."

Jay hums noncommittedly, but his body responds to the nearness of the other man. Even now, he arches into Randy's presence but not to touch, never to touch. He tests the other man's grip and his smirk wavers as the grip tightens. Time to redirect. "I bet it annoys the hell out of you, huh, tough guy?"

"No. I am curious, though…how many STDs _do _you have?"

Jay's eyes narrow, and Randy must have sensed that head butt coming a mile away because he tilts his head back just in time. The Viper didn't expect the slap though, and a vicious thrill tingles up Jay's spine at the reddening flesh. A knee slides in to press against Jay's unflagging, wholly _stupid_ dick as his other wrist is caught and pressed into the wall. It's both a threat and a promise that the Canadian can see in flat blue eyes. "Not that I need to answer you or anything, but I'm clean, prick," he spits out. "Let me go now."

Randy purses his lips as if thinking and never had Jay wanted to kick someone in the nuts so badly before. "What are you going to do—sik your lawyers on me?"

"How many times did you get punched in the skull tonight? Newsflash: Christian's my _character_, I'm not him." He says this slowly as if talking to a child. Which Randy was, a little child upset that he's not getting any attention. And here Jay thought that Mike was the most attention-whorish man he had met (and slept with, but that was neither here nor there).

"Not too sure about that—you both are whiny, manipulative bitches."

"That was completely uncalled for. Completely." Bad enough that his best friend kept pointing that out, both on the show and through texts; Jay didn't need Randy on his nuts too. "Now, I'm going to ask you nicely, again. Let. Me. Go."

"Why Cody?"

Jay stops, eyebrows furrowing in honest confusion. He had to have reason to go after someone now? News to him. What business was it of Randy's? Jay's eyes widen. "_Oh_. Did you call dibs?"

"Did I—? _No_! No." Jay almost feels offended for Cody. The kid isn't half bad looking, and from what he gathered from Maria and Ted, Cody was a considerate lover…not that he'd ever get the chance to test that out now. "I'm not—"

"If you didn't call him…then why do you care what we were doing?"

"I don't care who you screw—"

"Good."

Randy carries on as if he hadn't heard Jay. "But I don't want to look at it."

Jay's lips curl halfway between a smirk and a sneer. 'Poor Randy-boy', he thinks derisively. It's been, what?, a month—maybe two— since the St. Louis show? Sam was off taking care of their baby alone—she didn't have time or energy to be her husband's booty call, so Randy-boy must be feeling all that tension. Jay finds himself lucky to have a wife like Denise, who lets him do whatever he wants providing he slips her Divas' phone numbers on the sly. Hey, she has her urges; he has his. They were a perfect couple.

He rubs himself against Randy's padded knee, finding the Apex Predator donned in only his ring gear oddly hot. Mid-hump, he realizes that he won't be able to wrestle the man anymore without popping an embarrassing boner, and he freezes. The spell breaks; Randy shifts away in sharp, jerky movements.

Coward, Jay seethes, grabbing Randy by his thick forearm. "You're such a fucking coward," he says out loud, his blunt nails digging into dark skin.

"Am I now?"

And Jay is sick of it. Sick of his smug, holier-than-thou attitude, his sideways glances. Then, it hits him; oh, he was a _fool_. "You don't want Cody," he says unthinkingly.

Randy doesn't say a word.

An electrical buzz thrums under Jay's skin. All this time working together—their feud this_ entire_ summer—and Jay didn't realize the Viper wanted _him_. For once, Captain Charisma's silver tongue is silent as both Superstars ruminate on this newest development. But Jay can't be silent for long when things are on his mind; they both know that. "How…uh, when?"

Randy bursts out in quiet, almost self-loathing laughter that sharply twists Jay's stomach. "Does it matter, Reso?"

"Yes."

"Why? So you can mock me for how long I've stood off to the side watching you have sex with anything that moved?"

Jay bristles at the implication. Whenever he had sex with someone, there was a mutual agreement: if the SO objected in any way, it didn't happen. William Jason Reso was many things but a cheater was not one of them. He lets go of Randy's arm and shoves both hands in his jean pockets, shouldering his way past the taller Superstar.

He pauses and looks over his shoulder. "You know, Orton, we could have had something…maybe something great…if only you were man enough to actually speak up instead of hiding so far in the closet you can see Narnia. Next time, don't go the passive-aggressive route, okay? It doesn't suit you." Head held high, Jay walks away with his gym bag in hand and heads out the door.

**A/N #2:** I *might* be up for continuing this as a series of smuttish, semi-connected one-shots. Tell me what you think, especially which wrestler you want Christian to be paired up with next. I'll try to make it happen.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author**: Snarkcasm  
><strong>Rating<strong>: M for FULL ON smut (omg guise, my first sex scene)  
><strong>Summary<strong>: Mike's all faux, from his stylish Mohawk to the tips of his Italian leather shoes. Bustling confidence wrapped up so prettily like a bow—it's really sad that underneath all that expensive trapping lies the same self-doubting, pimply-faced, chubby boy who was picked last for everything.  
><strong>Pairing(s)<strong>: Christmiz and Jay/Mike/Maryse (LOLWUT, yeah, I said it!); tiny bit of onesided!Chrandy (this is still me we're talking about after all)  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: I do not own any rights to the WWE or the wrestlers mentioned in the story. This is a story of fiction and I make no money from it.  
><strong>Author's Note<strong>: Bitches, be amazed. Also, this is so not the update you all probably wanted, but I'm suffering under stress (ain't we all) and all I want to do is write smut. IS THAT A CRIME? Also, please put who you want Jay to be paired up with next in your comments. Next chapter will be Punk/Christian, I think. Don't quote me on that!

Now with the two companies completely merged together like some demented Siamese twin constantly trying to eat the other, Jay finds himself traveling twice as much. It's not like he can complain, really. He prides himself on being a resourceful guy after all. Strung out on enough caffeine to kill a bull elephant, Jay slouches in his chair and surveys the rest of the RAW Supershow roster.

He doesn't pay attention to the rookies—no one really does—and instead, his line of vision focuses directly on the Awesome One. Mike's all faux, from his stylish Mohawk to the tips of his Italian leather shoes. Bustling confidence wrapped up so prettily like a bow—it's really sad that underneath all that expensive trapping lies the same self-doubting, pimply-faced, chubby boy who was picked last for everything.

Sidling up to Mike, Jay finds it easy to distract him from whoever he was talking to. All he has to do is put his hand in the small of Mike's back, and Mike turns into him like a touch-starved cat. And like a touch-starved cat, Jay has to be wary of claws. Mike's eyes are suspicious, slit in lazy awareness that lends him a modicum of power. Jay lets him hold onto that scrap as he sends the rookie wrestler away with a disarming smile.

"Your feud seems to be going well." Jay begins professional as he subtly leads Mike from the cafeteria.

Mike shrugs, but it's all false modesty. If given the chance, the former reality star would crow his accomplishments to the moon, and like the moon, Jay doesn't give two shits. He does, however, care that the Superstar promised to give him a blowjob last time and Jay really isn't the type of person to let IOUs slide.

Mike's natural moue widens as he sinks to his knees, his eyes bright and calculating. There is no love lost between them; Jay knows that Mike believes he found a weakness to exploit. Jay lets his smirk grow.

"No hands." Mike startles at this and glares at the thinly-disguised power play. Jay leans against the wall in an attractive sprawl, his head pillowed by his interlocking fingers. He can trust Mike—if only for a little while—with his little stipulation and closes his eyes halfway.

He has to hand it to the former reality star; the cold air barely touched his freed cock before hot, tight heat engulfs it. Still, the younger wrestler lacks finesse. Jay feels pity for Maryse and there's no doubt in his mind that her enthusiasm as he gently licked her open and watched her fall apart orgasm after orgasm stemmed from the fact that Mike is an impatient, greedy lover.

He clicks his tongue in a slow rebuke, grips Mike's pathetic little fauxhawk, and _tugs_. Mike lets go with an obscene 'pop', lips red and spit-shined. "What?" he asks testily, hoarsely.

"I'm not a popsicle, Mizazin. Take your time. Didn't Hennigan teach you anything?" The last barb hits the mark dead on and Jay can feel the flinch. He goes for mocking instead of tenderness, pinpointing all the holes in Mike's so-called technique. "And for god's sake, no teeth."

"How selfish of me. I come all the way over from my shoot to surprise my boyfriend, and I get surprised."

Jay smirks up at Maryse, curling a hand around Mike's neck and forcing him down. He enjoys the heat of his blush soaking into his palm. "Is it a good surprise, baby?"

Her eyes darken as she stalks to him, shedding her fashionable leather jacket, revealing her skintight dress. "The best." In her heels, she's as tall as him, and he takes advantage of her height to give her an open-mouthed kiss on her lips. She laughs, high and breathy already, curling her tongue around his and running the tips of her manicured nails through his stubble. He wraps his free arm around her trim waist and grips her ass possessively. She has such a nice ass. She shivers and coos, nipples pebbling against his side. Mike is choking, but the two Canadians ignore him, too engrossed in each other.

Jay slips under her short dress and 'tsks' playfully at the little surprise he finds as his fingers hit wet, hot, _bare_flesh. "Someone's a little eager."

The little minx raises a sculpted eyebrow in challenge, her nails sinking into his shirt. He wastes no time plunging two of his blunt fingers in her opening, and she yelps, eyelashes fluttering closed. His index finger works at her engorged clit. Her breathing rises higher and higher until she convulses against him, her soft walls fluttering around him and warmness flooding his hand.

"Good girl," he breathes into her ear to her delightful hum. He tugs Mike off his dick and directs him to his girlfriend's warm slit. Luckily, he doesn't have to command the Awesome One as he dives right in, lapping with broad strokes. Maryse slumps, and Jay rushes to catch her, unzipping her dress, unhooking her bra, and cupping her soft breasts. She reaches up and clutches the back of both their heads, and Jay can feel the bite of her nails.

It takes a bit of maneuvering, but it's worth it to have her dusky nipple in his mouth. She's cursing rapidly now, slipping into French. Mike is relentless between her thighs, and Jay finds himself a bit jealous. He tugs Mike up and kisses him greedily, chasing her essence with his tongue.

Sandwiched between them but not left out as two sets of fingers stroke over her softness, Maryse fingers her clit on her own, watching them with half-lidded eyes like a contented cat. She shudders through another orgasm, boneless between two hard bodies.

Jay shares a look with Mike and the younger wrestler scampers off to Maryse's whimper of discontent. Jay spins her around to face him and keeps her attention until her boyfriend comes back with two condoms. She smiles lazily, taking both condoms and sinking to her knees. She doesn't rip the condoms open with her teeth, but with a saucy wink, she reaches for Jay and puts the condom on without her hands. Jay grips the base of his prick to keep from coming because that was a sight and watches her do the same with Mike.

She climbs back to her feet, walking steady in her heels, and pushes Jay down on the locker bench. With a toss of her ice-blond hair, she sinks down on his cock with an appreciative moan and rides him like a prized Derby winner. When he offers to reciprocate, she snarls at him: "Put your hands on the bench and keep them there."

He clutches at the her command, fingers threading through the holes on the bench. It's not comfortable-he's sure that there will be diamond-shaped bruises in his ass tomorrow-but it's worth it to see Maryse fall apart. Mike comes up from behind, and Maryse falls against Jay's chest, teeth at his shoulder as her boyfriend pushes in as gently as he can.

"So, so full!" She gasps. It takes her a while to recover, but when she does, she is a hellion. They only exist for her pleasure, and she's just so damn eager to let them know. When she clamps down on them for that last, shuddery climax, Jay feels as if he had been ridden hard and put away wet. She climbs off his lap and recovers next to him, naked, splayed out, and gorgeous. Jay grimaces and pulls off the used condom, tying it up and throwing it away. Mike makes himself useful by cleaning up after them, and Jay smiles, revising at least one of his bad thoughts about the Miz. Maybe he was the Awesome One after all.

Not one of them notices when a hulking figure fades back into the shadows, ice-blue eyes ablaze.


End file.
